Princess With Child
by Kia and Cal
Summary: An 18 year old Mia Thermopolis finds out something that will screw up her life as she knows it: she's pregnant! What'll she do?
1. Merry Christmas, Mia!

Wednesday, January 2nd,  
2 o'clock, on my bed  
  
Oh my God. I'm going to go hide under the covers on my bed and never come out. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. Why does everything happen to me?  
  
First of all, I'm the princess of a small European country. That's really great, because I only found out four years ago. I'm over the shock and everything, but it still sucks that my parents lied to me for the first fourteen years of my life. Secondly, my mother is married to the guy who's trying valiantly to teach me trig. I've gone all the way up to a C-minus in math, but considering that my teacher's also my stepfather, that's kind of sad.  
  
And now, I'm pregnant. Isn't that just great? I'm going to crawl under my covers now, I think.  
  
  
  
Two minutes later  
  
Well, at least I know that the father's Michael Moscovitz. It's not like I've had sex with anyone else, and I only did it with him once. ONCE, I tell you! Is this fair? I think not.  
  
Oh my God. What am I going to tell Michael? What am I going to tell Lilly? What am I going to tell Mom and Frank and Dad and Izzy? What am I going to tell Grandmere?!  
  
My life is over. It's time to curl up and die.  
  
  
  
Five minutes later  
  
Izzy came into my room and asked me why I was sitting under the covers. Apparently, when one is having a crisis at two o'clock in the afternoon, one looks silly sitting in bed.  
  
So of course, she climbed up and sat on my chest--what little there is, definitely NOT an improvement on what I had before--and yanked at my hair until I paid attention to her.  
  
  
Me: Stop it, Izzy!  
  
Izzy: Make me pancakes, Mia! You're all sad looking. Pancakes make people happy. Make pancakes!  
  
  
How can you argue with that kind of logic? So now I'm making pancakes in the middle of the afternoon. Izzy is WAY too demanding for a three year old. Did I act like that as a toddler? I really don't think so.  
  
  
  
Still Wednesday, 3 o'clock  
  
God, I'm just brilliant. Motormouth Mia can't hold a secret for more than a good three seconds. I just got off the phone with Lilly. The conversation went something like  
  
  
Lilly: Hi, Mia.  
  
Me: I'm pregnant.  
  
Lilly: WHAT?!?  
  
  
Needless to say, Lilly wasn't pleased that I was carrying around her brother's love child. After telling me how stupid of a move it was to have unprotected sex with her brother (it was protected! It's not my fault that condoms don't work every time!), she asked me what I was planning on doing about the baby.  
  
I really don't know. It doesn't really seem right to have an abortion, but I don't really want to have a kid. I wonder what Michael would think, but I really don't want to tell him.   
  
Of course, knowing me, it'll slip out the next time I see him at Jefferson Market. At least I remembered to threaten Lilly with dismeberment in hopes of making her keep the secret. Now what am I going to tell everyone else? This majorly sucks. I had enough fun watching Mom when she was pregnant with Izzy. I REALLY do NOT want to go though that myself.  
  
I'm going to go read a nice book. Yes, books are very nice. Books are safe. Books do not yell and scream and generally make very, very loud noises that could be detrimental to my frail mental condition. I like books.  
  
  
  
I'm not reading a book. The first one I picked up was Big Trouble by Dave Barry. The next one was a kid's book called Nothing but Trouble, Trouble, Trouble. Somebody up there hates me, or I have strange luck that allows me to pick up books with titles that make me feel worse than I already do. Either way, it kind of sucks.   
  
I'll go join Izzy and watch tv. Maybe she'll let me eat some pancakes. Maybe if I explain to her that she has to be nice to me because I have to go to school tomorrow and she doesn't, she'll feel bad and let me pick what we watch, too. Maybe Baywatch is on.  
  
  
  
Still Wednesday, 7 o'clock  
  
God, I hate my life even more than I already did. I've just proved to be the worst secret keeper in the world. I hope no one tells me anything very important when I'm ruler of Genovia, because I won't hold out against torture for very long.  
  
Now Mom knows, and Frank knows, and even Izzy knows (well, sort of)! Why'd I open my mouth at dinner?  
  
Mom and Frank got home around five and we had pasta for dinner. My natural ability to lie has deserted me at the time I need it most! At dinner, Mom tried to make some conversation. I helped out by dropping a bombshell.  
  
Mom: So how was your day, Mia?  
  
Mia: Uh...err, I found out I'm pregnant.  
  
Frank: WHAT? (He spit out the milk he was drinking at this point)  
  
Izzy: (She's laughing because of the mess. I don't think she caught the whole "Mia's pregnant!" thing)  
  
Mom: Izzy? Can you go? I think we need to talk to Mia in private.  
  
Izzy: Why?  
  
Mom: Izzy, just go to your room for a while, okay? (She was trying to control her temper, but she failed pretty miserably)  
  
Izzy: But why, Mom?  
  
Mom: Isabelle Margaret Gianini, go to your room!  
  
Izzy: (Runs off)  
  
What followed was pretty much me getting chewed out by Mom and Frank. I don't think I've ever seen Mom this mad before, and Frank's usually pretty easy-going. Of course, their (step) daughter has never accidentally gotten pregnant at the age of 18 before. I decided not to bring up the fact that Mom did somewhat the same thing in having me.  
  
Of course, Mom was in college and she wasn't 18 years old. Well, at least that means she can't hold anything against Michael.  
  
Oh my God, I still haven't told him. Mom knows, Frank knows, Izzy almost knows. His own freaking sister knows! It must suck not to be clued in. How am I going to tell him? More importantly, when? Preferably before he either reads it in the New York Times or Lilly tells him.  
  
Bleh. This sucks. This majorly sucks.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Well, how did you like the story so far? This is our first Princess Diaries fic, and we're darn proud of it at this point. Note the use of correct grammar, spelling, and capitalization; it makes us feel special to know that we have a grasp on the basics of the English language.  
  
Notes of interest:  
  
--Darn Meg and her details! Because Meg can write an entire book that spans about ten days (*cough* Princess in the Spotlight!), we don't know anything about Mia's little sibling, so we made it all up. (In other words, we flipped a coin to see whether she'd be male or female) Isabelle is our character, so please ask before using her, if you have any actual interest in doing so.  
  
Wow. No other notes of interest. That was short. Umm, for fun, do us a favour and tell us whether you think Mia should keep the kid or give it up for adoption. We might consider your opinions...if they're the same as ours. ^_~  
  
DISCLAIMER: Shock, surprise, and amazement. We do not own The Princess Diaries. Meg Cabot owns the books and Disney owns the movie(s; after all, they're making a sequel). However, we own this story and we own the following characters: Isabelle Margaret Gianini, commonly called Izzy, and the child of Mia, whom we cannot name at this point because it would ruin the surprise.  
  
This story is copyright Nakia Apel and Caleah Zarnstoff, July 2002.  
  
Thanks for reading! Please review!  
  
Love, Kia and Cal 


	2. Of swively chairs and fly-fishing lures

Thursday, January 3rd,  
After school, on the subway  
  
I'm going to go see Michael. Lilly told me at lunch that if I didn't tell him within the week, she'd email him the news. Needless to say, that wouldn't be the best scenario. Lars is sitting next to me and watching the subway car for evildoers while reading a new issue of Soldier of Fortune. I don't think he likes the subways much.  
  
I'm so scared. What'll Michael think? I mean, he's only 22, just graduating from college, doesn't have a good job lined up. I'm 18, I'm still in high school, and whatever I do will be known by the entire freaking world. This really doesn't look good. The future ruler of a country should not be getting pregnant while she's in high school. I don't think the Genovians will like this.  
  
Oh my God, what if we have to get married? I mean, I really like Michael, but marriage? That's really scary. This whole thing is getting scary. Must think about something else.  
  
Ooh, the Soldier of Fortune cover is neat looking. I think I'll just read over Lars' shoulder for a little while.  
  
Or not. It's our stop. Dun, dun, dun, dun...Time to tell Michael.  
  
  
  
Later  
  
Well, I guess that wasn't THAT bad. I didn't get a "WHAT?!" in response this time.  
  
When Lars and I got to Michael's apartment, he was kind of surprised to see us. Lars politely waited outside while Michael and I went into his bedroom to talk.  
  
"So what's going on?" he asked with a smile. "You don't usually come over unannounced."  
  
"Umm...well..." I sat in the chair by his desk and fidgeted a little and looked at my shoes. "Umm...Well, I have some important news."  
  
"Good or bad?"  
  
"That depends on how you look at it."  
  
"This isn't sounding good. What is it?"  
  
"Umm..." I concentrated on my combat boots, because combat boots are always safe to look at. People's faces are not. "I'm, uh, pregnant."  
  
Michael didn't say anything. After a few seconds, I glanced up at him. All the colour was drained from his face and he kept opening his mouth and closing it, as if he wanted to say something and then decided not to. He looked a little bit like a fish, because his eyes were so wide and his mouth kept opening and closing. It would have been really funny if I wasn't so scared that he was going to faint or something.  
  
"Michael? Are you all right?"  
  
Michael's eyes suddenly refocused themselves and he stared at me. "You're not joking...are you?" he said slowly. "If you are, Mia, it really isn't funny."  
  
I swiveled around in Michael's desk chair and started studying my feet again. "No. Not joking."  
  
When I turned in a full circle, Michael's head was in his hands and he was muttering, "Oh God, this sucks."  
  
"I agree."  
  
"Mia? Who else knows?"  
  
"Umm...Mom, Frank, and Lilly."  
  
"You told my sister that you were pregnant before you told me?"  
  
Oops.  
  
"Well, she called, and it kind of slipped out."  
  
Michael was still holding his head. "Oh God...What the hell are we going to tell your grandmother?"  
  
I twisted a strand of hair around my finger. "I was hoping you had an idea."  
  
"And you haven't told your father yet? And the press obviously doesn't know, but when they all get their hands on this story, we're dead. God, this sucks."  
  
I can see the headline right now: Princess Mia is Pregnant Out of Wedlock! Carrying the Tradition on for Another Generation!  
  
Wow, I'll be a great role model after the entire free world hears about this.  
  
"Yeah, it does. What are we going to do?" I asked.  
  
"I don't know. Umm...Mia? Could you possibly go home for a while? I need to work and maybe bash my head against the wall repeatedly."  
  
"All right. Bye, Michael." I gave him a kiss and walked out of the room.  
  
Lars and I took the subway back home. I guess that turned out better than I thought it would. I mean, Michael didn't have a total emotional breakdown and he didn't start screaming or anything. Under the circumstances, I think we can call that succesful.  
  
  
Friday, January 4th,  
3rd Period, English Comp Class  
  
I love English Comp. Mrs. Stellmacher is so senile that she never notices when I'm not writing a paper for her. It's the only class where I can always get away with writing in here. Too bad Lilly's not in my class. We could have talked--we really need to--but she has AP Calculus this period.  
  
I don't like anyone in this class actually, which is too bad, because if I really want to talk to someone.  
  
Someone other than Rebecca "Call me Becky!" Peart. She keeps passing me notes and trying to talk to me. Becky transferred to Albert Einstein last year. She's very pretty, with blonde hair like Lana Weinberger's, but she's really unpopular. I don't know why. Maybe it's because Becky gets on everyone's nerves. The weird thing is that she doesn't notice and goes about life as if everyone loves her.  
  
She just passed me another note:  
  
Hi, Mia!  
  
I was wondering if I could sit with you and those other girls at lunch today. Please? I made a new fly-fishing lure. You can have it if you want.  
  
Love, Becky  
  
I mean, what kind of note is THAT? Not only is it majorly strange to make fly-fishing lures when you think fly-fishing is a cruel form of torture to defenseless little fish, but she's so...I don't know. I think the word might be simpering. Why can't she go follow someone else around?  
  
Wait, I've just remembered why I don't like Becky. The first day she saw me, she asked for my autograph. That was uncomfortable. I can't believe she didn't try to make Lilly take a picture of me with her.  
  
I didn't want to reply to Becky's note, but my conscience decided I had no choice:  
  
Hi, Becky  
  
Sure. You can sit with us. And I guess a fly-fishing lure would be cool. Thanks for the offer.  
  
Mia  
  
After she read it, her face brightened and she smiled at me. And now I feel really bad for writing about her in here. Damn my conscience.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Hi everyone!  
  
First of all, sorry if Michael is OOC. We have trouble writing him. He's just so...hard to write. Unlike Mia. Mia's easy. We tried to keep him in character, though. Did we do all right?  
  
Secondly, we apologize for Becky's prescence. She annoys us, too. However, we want Mia to whine about something other than "Ohmigod, I'm pregnant", because that gets boring. As a random note, her name was picked from the telephone book. We used Kia's magic foot to point to the right first and last names.  
  
Since Kia has nothing she wants to say, and because the following has nothing to do with her, I can now write in singular pronouns! Yay!  
  
  
A mini-rant from Cal: Spell-checkers! For the love of God, does anyone have them? I won't point fingers at any one person, but I keep seeing the stupidest mistakes that a semi-decent spell-checker should be able to catch! I mean, Kia and I have the word processor from HELL, and it can still tell us that "im" isn't correct! So, I plead to all the authors out there in PD-land, please run your fics through spell and grammar checks. We of the grammar dork clans will thank you profusely.  
  
Wow, kept it under ten sentences. I'm so proud. Back to the real world...  
  
  
Anyway, legal junk that's gotta be said:  
  
We do not own The Princess Diaries. Meg Cabot owns the books, and Disney owns the movie. We do, however, own this story. We also own the following characters: Isabelle Margaret Gianini ("Izzy"), Mia's unborn child, and Rebecca Nancy Peart ("Becky"). Please do not distribute this story or use our characters without our permission. You can have Becky for all we care, but please ask before you kidnap and torture her.  
  
This story is copyrighted to Nakia Apel and Caleah Zarnstoff, July 2002.  
  
Thank you all for reading! Please review! (We're so glad ya'll reviewed last time--it totally made our day)  
  
Love,  
  
Kia and Cal 


End file.
